


The Small Things in Life

by Snow_Glory



Series: Baby Musketeers [1]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Fluff, Gen, Magic, au magic world, de-aged musketeers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-10-30 18:06:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17833511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snow_Glory/pseuds/Snow_Glory
Summary: "Whatever Treville expected Porthos to present to him by way of explanation, it certainly wasn't two children."Yep, you guessed it! The story no one ever wanted... baby musketeers!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My apologies for this... It's one of those things that invades your mind and won't leave unless you write it. I already posted this on fanfic . net. 
> 
> Pre-warning: The chapters are short.

**The Captain's Office**

* * *

"We have a problem," Athos stated as he and Porthos walked into their Captain's office. They stood, uneasy, in front of Treville's desk waiting for the man to acknowledge them.

Treville sighed and rubbed his temples, his frustration showing in the lines on his forehead. He wondered why all conversations with these grown men had to start out like this. In all these years captaining the Musketeers, he couldn't remember a time when those four words meant anything other than _'this is the end of the world'_. _I think we might have a problem_. _Aramis might be missing and/or hurt._ _D'Artagnan did something reckless today. Porthos cheated at cards and needs help. Athos got angry and broke something._ Why couldn't they come straight out and say exactly what happened? Just how drunk was he the day he decided to allow them a commission into his elite regiment of soldiers?

He should've known when he allowed Aramis in, the youngest of his men at the time, that it was only the beginning. Then Athos showed up around the same time as Porthos and he still hadn't realized what he'd gotten himself into. The three stuck together like glue, inseparable, and even then he hadn't figured it out. It wasn't until d'Artagnan flew through the gates of the garrison that he understood. France was never going to be the same again and these four were going to be the catalyst for it.

Treville pulled his legs down from the top of his desk and sat up a little straighter. He wasn't sure if he was trying to look imposing or what, but it made him feel like he had all the authority at this moment. He was secretly elated a moment later when Athos and Porthos began fidgeting. They looked guilty, thought Treville. Very guilty.

Athos kept adjusting his belts, refusing to meet Treville's eyes, which was a clear sign something was seriously wrong. Athos, by nature, always followed orders. It was something that Treville admired in the man. So when he fiddled and fussed and looked guilty… he usually was. Beside Athos, Porthos was rocking back and forth on his feet, crossing and uncrossing his arms in obvious discomfort. The difference between Athos and Porthos, though, was that the latter met his gaze in as if it was a challenge. Porthos wasn't happy, he needed help and he needed it imminently or he was going to lose it. Treville prided himself on being able to read his men well. That was how he knew that whatever was about to come from their mouths wasn't going to be good.

"Get on with it Athos, this better be worth my time. What is the problem."

Athos adjusted his belt again, "Well Captain, you see, Aramis and d'Artagnan are our problems."

"Of course they are. Out of the four of you, those two are more often than not the problem. Did you lose them again?"

"Technically you could say we lost them, sir, but-" Athos said backing up a bit when Treville growled. "We found them shortly after, just not in the same condition we left them."

Treville frowned. If these two didn't get straight to the point soon, he was going to have a stroke. "What do you mean they are not in the same condition?"

Athos and Porthos met each other's gazes. Porthos rocked from the front of his feet to the heels, clearing his throat, "Well, see… It's like… well…"

"Spit it out Porthos!" Treville snapped.

"There was a witch and she did something to them and…" Porthos said before trailing off and shutting his mouth. He stared wildly at Athos, presumably looking for some guidance.

"Did you say a witch?" Treville asked Athos, ignoring Porthos' strange behaviour.

This was supposed to have been a simple mission escorting a group of priests to a nearby mass baptism. How on earth had these four crossed paths with a witch? Scratch that, thought Treville. Of course, these four would find a witch, trouble always seemed to find them, he had no clue why he'd think otherwise.

"Alright then, what happened to them?"

Athos turned to meet Porthos' gaze before gesturing to the closed door of Treville's office. "It would be better if we showed you."

Porthos went to the door and opened it whispering to someone before he motioned for them to come inside. While Porthos was having his hushed conversation, Treville took a moment to look a little closer at Athos. He wasn't surprised to see Athos staring right back at him with genuine fear reflected in his eyes. It was obvious that what had happened on their mission had tested Athos' resolve.

Whatever Treville expected Porthos to present to him by way of explanation, it certainly wasn't two children. They were young, one of them barely out of swaddling clothes by the looks of it. A young boy that Treville assumed was about nine years old, made his way over to Athos. Athos immediately wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulder in silent support. The boy had an olive toned complexion and dark eyes that looked black in the room's lamplight. He was tall and scrawny in his ill-fitting clothes. Treville had to hold back a smirk as he realized this boy reminded him of d'Artagnan.

Beside him, holding Porthos' hand, stood a younger boy with a mass of chocolate brown curls atop his head. Treville guessed the short, little, boy was around four years old. He was wearing an over-sized man's shirt with a blue sash wrapped around his waist to secure it. The blue sash reminded Treville of a similar one that was usually wrapped around Aramis' midsection. The child seemed happy enough to be led by Porthos into the room, but the second he saw Treville he hid behind Porthos' leg.

Treville smiled fondly and knelt down so he could meet the little boy's terrified gaze. "There is nothing to be afraid of here," he said to him. When the child didn't so much as move a muscle, Treville let his gaze sweep to the older child. Something clicked in his brain at that very moment. They were the spitting image of his two missing musketeers only younger. So much younger.

"It can't be." He whispered. "… I don't understand."

Athos nodded and motioned for Treville towards his desk. "You'd best sit down, this is a rather long tale."


	2. Chapter 2

**The Village**

Everything on this mission was going according to plan. Actually, thought Athos, it was going far too smoothly for his liking. He, Porthos, Aramis and their newest recruit, d'Artagnan, were escorting some priests to a baptism in a nearby village. The small village of people was converting to Catholicism and the Inseparables were there to ensure that nothing went wrong. It was an easy enough task, perfect for d'Artagnan who needed more on the job experience. All day, though, Athos' skin crawled with the feeling that something was going to go wrong. The weather was warm in the late summer and they hadn't run into any burglars, bandits or thieves. There really wasn't anything to be concerned over. Though, of course, Athos found that was usually when something went wrong.

"It will be over soon," Porthos assured Athos, seeming to understand that he was uneasy.

Porthos was not usually one to be so perceptive of others' emotions, usually leaving that up to Aramis. But where Aramis was good with reading people, Porthos was their strong foundation. The ground would be far shakier if it wasn't for Porthos keeping them steady. In reality, Athos knew that each of his brothers brought something to the group. The four of them made an unbeatable team, as long as they remained together. It was when they separated that they fell apart at the seams.

Porthos placed his hand on Athos' shoulder for a moment before turning to look over the crowd. They were standing next to a lake the priests were blessing so they could perform the ceremony. He wouldn't tell Athos that he was feeling the same kind of feelings as he was. Admitting that he was just as nervous something was going to go wrong wouldn't help anyone. While Porthos was more than happy to support his friend, he still moved a little bit closer to Athos. It would make him feel better if they all stuck close to one another until this ceremony was over.

Athos, perceptive as he was, saw Porthos shift slightly closer. He knew his friend felt the same unease, but also knew that nothing was likely to come of their nervousness. Athos glanced at Aramis and d'Artagnan, satisfied to see them patrolling the other side of the lake. Aramis had a keen eye and ear for things most people would miss. Athos figured d'Artagnan could use a skill like that and the younger man seemed eager to learn. D'Artagnan had the potential to be the greatest Musketeer they'd seen in a long time and Athos didn't want to waste that.

Once the priests finished blessing the lake they invited the villagers to enter it. Men, women and children all piled into the water until it reached their shoulders and chests. Each of the villagers wore their Sunday best except one woman. She wore rags for clothes, her hair was a mess and she was being dragged along by a couple of elder villagers. When she entered the water everyone in the area pulled away. They began whispering to each other, glancing furtively at the woman. The display caused Athos' anxiety levels to increase. What was going on here?

"Something is wrong Porthos," Athos hissed under his breath. The moment the woman entered the lake, a certain malice clouded the air that shouldn't be there. It made his skin crawl and his feet itch to grab his brothers and run for the trees. This was supposed to be a blessed day and it felt like there was a dark cloud hovering beyond the horizon. "This is too easy. Don't you feel it?"

Porthos didn't respond. Instead, he moved a little closer to the water's edge, his eyes narrowed as he watched the ragged woman.

The baptism began then, distracting Athos from his worries and forcing him to focus on the task at hand. With these many people in one area, there was always a need for extra security. He could do that at the very least. The priests were orderly with the ceremony, calling forth each person and baptizing them. They started with the children, wanting to get them out of the water faster.

As the ceremony continued without any hitches or delays Athos' worries settled. Maybe he was overreacting a little bit earlier, he thought. Aramis had waded into the water a couple of feet, d'Artagnan close behind him. Both he and Porthos preferred to have dry feet and stood next to each other at the edge of the water. Seeing his younger brothers eager to listen to the sermon eased something in Athos' mind. While he wasn't sure what he believed in, knowing his brothers believed in some greater being was enough for him. If they were enjoying themselves he may as well relax and so he let the rest of his worries flutter away. Athos eased his stance and pulled his hand from the pommel of his sword, with an indulgent yet rare smile. Of course, the moment he let go of his anxieties is exactly when all hell broke loose.

As Porthos would come to describe later, there was an odd buzzing sound that filled the area. It started out low. A sound like a stray bee buzzing about that exploded into an all-encompassing drone. Several people gasped as the pressure of the air seemed to increase. He looked over and saw Aramis holding his ears, wincing while d'Artagnan attempted to console him. Porthos felt bad for his friend. Aramis had impeccable hearing and this had to be bothering him more than anyone.

Just as quickly as the buzzing began, it ended with a popping sound. It felt like the world was suddenly hyper-focused on a single point in the lake. All eyes turned to the ragged woman from earlier as she was dragged forth to receive her blessing. Porthos could tell that she didn't want to be here from the way she struggled against the men holding her. As the woman was pulled towards the priests she started chanting in a strange language. Porthos saw d'Artagnan grab for Aramis' arm as he attempted to go and help the woman. Of course, his friend would want to help her, it was in his nature. For as much as Aramis could be a formidable soldier, the man had a huge, caring heart. The head over heart lesson Athos was trying to instil in d'Artagnan was something Aramis often forgot. Or chose to ignore. Either way, Porthos knew Athos was going need to speak to Aramis, yet again, about it.

"What is she saying?" Porthos whispered.

Athos shook his head. He didn't know. The villagers began backing away, whispering furiously amongst one another. One word, in particular, sent a chill through Athos' veins. The villagers were beginning to chant "witch" over and over.

"Are they saying what I think they are saying?" Athos asked Porthos.

The woman screamed. "You will not bless me, I will not be part of this! Unhand me you fools!"

The water surrounding her began to churn and swirl, knocking people off their feet. The current the witch was creating pushed people away from her and sucked some under the surface. Villagers began screaming and thrashing about in the water.

"Everyone out of the water!" Porthos shouted at the same time as d'Artagnan yelled.

"Stop her!"

Athos shared a frightened look with Porthos before they rushed to pull people out of the lake.

"Aramis! D'Artagnan!" Athos shouted. "Get the priests out of the lake!"

To Athos, time slowed down and everything moved in slow motion. The crowd raced towards him as he and Porthos waded their way into the water. Athos saw d'Artagnan and Aramis crash farther into the lake, pulling the priests away from the woman. He grabbed a small girl and twisted to toss her to her father at the water's edge. Porthos raced back to dry land with an elderly lady cradled in his arms.

Seeing everyone fleeing from her, the woman began to struggle even more violently. "No one is going to leave this place alive!"

"Let her go and get out of here!" Aramis shouted to the men holding her. He turned to the witch and waded closer to her until the water was lapping at his chest. He was still a considerable distance from her, though. "Please let everyone out of this lake, I beg of you, don't do this. They just wanted a blessing, you can't condemn everyone here for that."

"I can't condemn them? When they call me a witch?" She squawked. "After trying to force me to be baptized? I didn't ask for this."

Aramis had no answer for her, all he wanted was to prevent people from dying today. "You know these people, how can you murder them? They are your family. There are children here," Aramis pleaded. "They are innocent."

"Oh you naive boy, you think they are innocent? Do you think that makes any difference? Do you think I have been treated like family? Not one single person here is innocent and if you won't let me drown them, maybe I will burn them to the ground."

"Please, I beg of you, don't do this," Aramis begged. "Let them go, you can have me. I will help you get out of here, I promise. You only have to let them all live."

The woman stopped chanting and looked at him, wide-eyed in shock. An eerie calm settled around the area as the lake water stopped churning. The remaining villagers used the distraction to run for the shelter of their homes. "You would sacrifice yourself to save this village of heathens?"

"Without hesitation." Aramis could hear Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan shouting for him to get out of the water and get away from her. He was glad they weren't close enough to him to hear him bargain for their lives, they would never forgive him.

"You are a fool then," she responded. "I accept your terms, they can live, but I don't care about surviving this."

She began chanting again, this time in a quieter voice that Aramis struggled to hear. The water swirled around him creating a small whirlpool that he couldn't break free from. He could feel the water tugging at his doublet, trying to pull him down. Aramis struggled, trying to get out of the raging water and get to d'Artagnan who was behind him. He shouted a moment later as he lost his footing on the bottom of the lake. Normally, a good swimmer, this wouldn't have fazed him at all, but the water's current pulled him straight under. He had but a moment to register what was happening before he broke the surface right in front of her. He was in deep enough that he could barely touch the bottom of the lake. She never gave him a chance to draw a breath before her hands wrapped around his neck.

"You offer them a kindness knowing they would never return it... it's admirable but naive. You, trusting me, to not kill you and then level this place to the ground is idiotic. You don't know what I am capable of."

Aramis tried to respond but her hands tightened around his neck cutting off his next breath. He struggled feebly as she pulled him in close and whispered in his ear.

"You are childlike in your faith of others, it will be your downfall. Let's see you experience something you didn't ask for, hmm?"

Searing pain raced through Aramis' neck as she choked him. The lack of oxygen made his thoughts sluggish. The words she was whispering created a tingling in his limbs and forced him to lock gazes with her. Aramis could see her eyes beginning to glow and the words she was chanting began to make perfect sense. What she was doing… what she was about to do to him… Terrified him. He thought he could hear voices shout for him to stop staring at her, but her eyes were just so mesmerizing. The glowing was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. It was like she was speaking in his head now, whispering the most enticing of things.

Vaguely, he felt someone grab his shoulders, trying to pull him away and it snapped him out of the daze he was in. "Please, don't do this." He managed to choke out. It was barely a whisper, but he knew she heard it from the smile on her face. The world was beginning to go grey at the edges of his vision.

"I see you understand now," she laughed. "It's too late, though, the spell is already taking hold."

D'Artagnan was scared, though he'd never admit it to anyone. He knew magic existed in this world, but it was so rare that it was more of a legend than anything. Where would a mere farm boy meet anyone that could use magic? He had little experience dealing with magic users and didn't think they could be so formidable. Actually, who was he joking, he had never laid eyes on anyone that could use magic. Knowing this woman was a witch and seeing her ensnare Aramis so fast terrified him. All d'Artagnan knew was that he had to rescue his brother before something bad happened.

D'Artagnan growled and wrapped his arm around Aramis' chest, pulling as hard as he could. He was relieved as she broke eye contact with his friend and focused on him. At the very least if he could distract her long enough, they might get out of this alive. He just wished that Aramis was more coherent to be able to help in his own escape.

Her eyes darkened and her hold on Aramis' neck intensified. "If you don't let go, you will fall just as he will."

"I won't leave him alone to her madness," d'Artagnan responded. He pulled on Aramis' shoulders again, determined to release him from the woman's clutches. "Let him go now, before the others reach you and stop you."

"You both are so noble, but like I told your friend a moment ago, it's too late. The spell has already taken hold, look how his eyes glow. The brother you know isn't going to be himself much longer." She laughed and began chanting again.

A bright light began shining from her chest and d'Artagnan decided that he'd had enough of this of this woman. Magic or no magic, no one messed with his brothers. He took a moment to look at his friend, Aramis' face was crimson, eyes wide and panicked by the lack of air. D'Artagnan gripped her wrist and began pulling, trying to dislodge it from his friend's throat.

The instant the boy grabbed her wrist, she'd felt the change in the spell. The boy was still holding her prey and by touching both of them he'd created a connection she hadn't expected. A circle of energy if you will. It was hard enough on her strength to maintain this spell, but add another person and it began to grow out of control. It gained a mind of its own and there was nothing she could do but try and break the circle. She let go of her prey's neck, eyes widening in shock. She'd hoped that when she let go it would end, but she realized that there was no way to stop this. The spell began pulsating from her chest, growing in intensity and brightness. She'd waited too long and she needed to get out of here before she was vaporized by her own magic. At least, she thought, the two men before her would suffer something and this spell wasn't for nothing.

D'Artagnan felt like he was floating as the magic flowed through him from Aramis. Deep down he knew he shouldn't have touched her wrist, that nothing good was going to come of it. He felt the change in the air as the witch lost control of the spell and released Aramis. His friend fell back into his arms, unresponsive but taking big gasping breaths of air. The witch vanished as the spell burst forward from her chest, bathing the area in bright white light. D'Artagnan only had time to wonder if she'd destroyed herself before he noticed the lake was still a swirling whirlpool of anger. He barely had a moment to make sure he had a tight hold on Aramis before they were both sucked underwater by the current.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Lakeside**

When the light dissipated, Porthos shoved Athos off of himself and flipped around to see where Aramis and d'Artagnan were. He and Athos were still a couple of feet into the water, the lake lapping at their knees. There was an eerie looking mist hovering above the entire lake as if it was hiding something. The water which had once been churning and angry was now as calm and flat like the surface of a mirror. It was as though nothing had happened and yet something  _had_ happened. Aramis and d'Artagnan were missing after being sucked into the lake by a magic user. That same magic user who was nowhere to be found, who had vanished as the light exploded from within her.

Growing up in the Court of Miracles, Porthos was always surrounded by magic. The self-appointed Kings and Queens of the court always provided shelter to those less fortunate and in need. While magic was prevalent in the world, it was also beginning to become rare to meet someone so open about being able to use it. The idea that there was someone here that could use magic and kept it a secret didn't surprise Porthos. What did surprise him was that someone could cast a spell so strong they could command nature. He hadn't met someone this adept at magic since he was a small child.

"Athos, I don't see them." Porthos cried. He was about two seconds away from risking his own life and diving into the water to find his friends. "Aramis! D'Artagnan!"

Beside him, Athos grabbed his shoulder as if knowing exactly what he was planning. Porthos didn't care though, he shrugged off his friend's hand and waded another foot into the water.

"Porthos, you can barely swim, what are you doing?"

"I plan on going to rescue our brothers, what else would I do?" Porthos responded as he kept wading farther.

"So what, you're going to put yourself in a situation where you need to be rescued as well? That's smart. Wait," Athos said. He'd seen something floating near the centre of the lake. "What is that?"

He didn't wait for an answer before he took off swimming to the middle of the lake, leaving his friend behind. Athos was thankful that Porthos let him discover what the floating object was alone. He didn't relish the idea of needing to rescue him as well, two brothers were enough. He was still shocked over what happened with the baptism and was struggling to understand how it all crumbled so fast. In hindsight, Athos wished that he hadn't sent Aramis and d'Artagnan into the water, maybe that would've saved them from whatever happened. Oh, God, please let them be alive...

After what felt like hours, Athos finally reached the object floating in the water. His heart pounded in his chest as he took hold of it, hoping it was one of his brothers. He was disappointed when he when he saw what it was and shouted his dismay to Porthos. It was only Aramis' sash and doublet with no person inside of the articles of clothing. Giving the clothing no further thought, he dove underwater in search of his friends.

Porthos was having a hard time containing himself waiting for Athos to resurface. What if they were too late? What if… if… No, he couldn't think that way. He waded as far into the lake as he felt comfortable, which wasn't very far because he hated water. Ever since he was a child and almost drowned he made it a point to stay away from lakes and rivers. From any body of water, really. Of course, Porthos thought, as a small smile graced his face, Aramis would never take no for an answer. His friend was still, after all these years, actively trying to get him to learn to swim better.

He waded further into the water before his foot slammed into something solid. Taking a deep breath he plunged his face into the water and rooted around for what he hit his foot on. He was rewarded when he pulled up Aramis' weapon belt with both pistols and sword still attached. He couldn't decide whether the item discovery was a good sign or a foreshadowing of what Athos was going to find. It bothered Porthos that they'd only found Aramis' clothing and weapons. Aside from the glaring question of why Aramis wasn't currently in said clothing, there was also no sign of d'Artagnan. Where were they? Looping the belt over his shoulder, he waited for Athos; his friend had been underwater too long. Right as Porthos was about to throw caution to the wind and risk his life to save him, Athos resurfaced gasping.

Porthos' heart plummeted as he realized that his friend was empty-handed. "Athos?" he asked, trying to contain the sob that was clawing its way up his throat.

"I couldn't find them," Athos cried. He grabbed Aramis' floating doublet and sash and swam back to Porthos. "They weren't there."

"But we saw them go under!"

Athos' shoulders dropped in defeat. "For all the churning the water was doing before, it's remarkable how clear it is underneath the surface now. So unless the witch took them to another part of the lake, they were not there. With the amount of time they have been underwater, I am beginning to fear we might already be too late."

Deep in the recesses of his mind, Porthos knew that Athos was right, too much time had passed. He had to know if they were still alive. He couldn't just walk away from his brothers and not gain any closure. He would look for them until he knew one way or another whether Aramis and d'Artagnan were alive. "You're giving up that easy? You know we owe them better than one try," Porthos said.

Athos nodded, of course, he wasn't giving up just yet and he was a little insulted that Porthos came to that conclusion so quickly. He just couldn't ignore the facts laid out in front of them. His brothers had been sucked underwater by an unnatural force and they hadn't resurfaced so as far as Athos knew. What else was he supposed to conclude?

"Maybe the witch shoved them towards shallower water. You take a quick run around the perimeter of the lake and I will try for one more dive." Athos finally responded.

Placated, for now, Porthos nodded and began walking along the lake's edge, shouting for his brothers.

* * *

**The Results**

* * *

If you'd asked d'Artagnan earlier if he'd expected to end the day in mortal peril he would've laughed. What possibly could have gone wrong at a baptism?

Everything. That's right, every single damn thing could and did go wrong. He had enough experience in the short time he'd been with the Musketeers to recognize something that was too good to be true. He just wished he'd recognized the signs. The thing was, though, good or bad, d'Artagnan wouldn't ever go back and change how things were. He loved his brothers and would go to the ends of the earth for them. Which of course, with those three, he practically had to do that on a daily basis. Don't let Athos fool you either, he got into just as much trouble as the other two, he was just quieter about it.

D'Artagnan winced as he came into full awareness a few moments later. His head throbbed with the beat of his heart and he could feel something sliding down the side of his face. He hoped it was water and not blood. The last thing he remembered was being sucked underwater alongside an unresponsive Aramis. At first, while the current was tugging at them, d'Artagnan maintained a firm grip on his brother. He even tried to break free of the hold the lake had on them, but a meeting between a rock and his head ripped Aramis from his arms and left him dazed.

Well, that would be why his head hurt.

D'Artagnan's face scrunched up in confusion, he couldn't for the life of him figure out how he was still alive. There was no way the witch had let him live. He remembered seeing her vanish in a blast of white light after having lost control of her spell. At least that is what he figured happened because she hadn't looked super pleased when he was trying to rip her hand from Aramis' throat. He was going to have to chalk it up to magic. He'd heard stories when he was younger, of magic having a mind of its own. He'd heard that it could choose to intervene when something unnatural happened. The idea that magic could have a mind of its own though... Maybe that is what happened. Yeah, that's exactly the theory he was going with.

D'Artagnan shook his head, trying to clear his head of all these thoughts. Dwelling on such heavy thoughts wasn't helping him right now. Shaking his head wasn't the smartest thing to do either as the movement only made his brain throb harder.

When he finally opened his eyes he was shocked to see he was no longer floating in the lake. He was still at the water's edge, though, with his feet submerged and the rest of his body laying on the rocky beach. He was freezing too, still completely wet from his swim in the depths of the lake. As if trying to drive the point home, d'Artagnan's body shuddered from head to toe in a shiver. It left the hair on his arms and neck raised. As he shivered he noticed that one side of his body felt heavier than the other. Before he had the chance to see why the wind picked up. It set d'Artagnan's teeth chattering causing his head to spike in pain again. What a miserable day.

As he waited out the incessant pounding d'Artagnan became aware of a shadow blocking out whatever light was getting past the mist. The weight at his side had been removed and he realized it had been a person curled up at his side this whole time.

"Hi," the person said.

D'Artagnan turned his head to see who was disturbing him. It was a young boy. The child was sopping wet, more than a little bedraggled and wearing nothing else but a man's white shirt. A shirt that bore a striking resemblance to the one that Aramis was wearing earlier. Looking closer, d'Artagnan spied the rosary necklace that Aramis was wearing that morning. Meeting the boy's gaze his eyes widened as he took in a small, thin scar gracing the child's forehead. Something clicked in d'Artagnan's brain and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was, in fact, Aramis. And with that revelation, came the panic.

Oh no, no, no…

D'Artagnan startled and sat up too fast, smacking foreheads with Aramis. The child cried out and fell backwards while d'Artagnan's world swayed, sickeningly.

"That hurt." The boy cried.

"How are you-" He started to ask, interrupting himself almost immediately. His eyes widened at the tone of his voice and he snapped his mouth shut in shock. Whose voice was that? Not his own, surely?

He cleared his throat and tried again. "Hello?" he squeaked. Oh God, it was his voice! He held out his hands, or rather the sleeves of his doublet, now several sizes too big for him. Pushing up his sleeves revealed a pair of very small hands. Uncalloused hands. Childlike hands. Shocked, D'Artagnan looked down at the rest of his body to see that he was a lot smaller than he'd been this morning. "What the hell?"

"The scary lady made the magic happen," Aramis in a half panicked sob. He'd moved away from d'Artagnan, wary at being hurt again. "You are smaller too."

So this was what the witch did; made the two of them younger and vulnerable. He had to assume she meant to kill them both, so that must mean that her spell had failed. D'Artagnan knew he was a byproduct of this spell. He wasn't the one targeted and maybe if he hadn't tried to save his brother he would still be an adult. There was a part of him that was immediately angry at Aramis. If the bloody fool could just stop being so damn caring, then maybe this wouldn't have happened. But as swift as the anger came it fizzled out, replaced by remorse over his thoughts. It wasn't Aramis' fault either and his brothers' compassion was one of the things he admired most in the man. Or a child, now.

Butterflies suddenly assaulted his stomach, making his insides roil. What if they were stuck this way? This wasn't a good thing. What were they going to do?

"I'm going to be sick," and just like that, d'Artagnan rolled over and expelled the contents of his stomach.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Discovery**

* * *

It wasn't a big lake by any means, but it was a wiggly lake, for lack of a better description. As with most things in nature, the lake wasn't a perfect circle. Instead, it was jagged and wavy and had more than one hidden bend. It was near one of the bends that he heard the sound of retching and a frightened yelp. Being the type of person he was and his inability to leave someone in peril, Porthos took off towards the sound. He didn't notice that Athos had come out of the lake until he appeared at his side, running with him.

"You hear that too?" He asked.

Athos nodded, "I heard someone cry out."

When they rounded the bend, the first thing they saw was two boys. One was scrambling back to avoid getting wet from the other one who was being sick all over the rocks. Athos and Porthos traded wary glances before running up to where the boys were laying. As they skidded to a stop beside them the smaller one shouted and ran off to hide behind a nearby tree.

"Hey, come back!" Porthos called, chasing after him. When the boy cried out again and hid completely behind the tree, Porthos stopped and walked back to Athos. "Little bugger is frightened."

"I don't think our frantic arrival made him feel very safe, Porthos. What would you think if two giant musketeers came running at you? Let's get this one looked after and then see about the other one," Athos said. He knelt down, placing a hand on the boy's forehead to check for fever. The child was soaking wet and so was the other one, judging by the wet rocks where he was sitting before. They would have to get them both inside soon so they wouldn't catch a chill and fall sick. "Are you okay?"

"No…" The child whispered. He looked up to see Athos staring down at him and grabbed for his doublet, burying his face in the man's chest. "Athos, please make her change me back."

The last thing Athos was expecting was this child to call him by his name. Pulling him away from his chest he looked down at him. "Have I met you before?"

The boy's jaw dropped, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Are you serious?" He asked. "It's me, d'Artagnan!"

What had he just said? Athos gasped and looked straight into the boy's eyes. He looked a little closer at him, eyes widening as the evidence began to present itself. Dark hair, olive toned skin and a doublet that looked remarkably like d'Artagnan's. "But, how."

"Athos," Porthos said. "If that is d'Artagnan… you don't think…"

Both of them looked up at Porthos and then swivelled to look towards the tree where the boy was peeking out. All that was visible was a shock of brown curly hair and two dark eyes.

D'Artagnan nodded, "yes that is Aramis. That woman in the lake cast her spell on Aramis and I couldn't stop her. You have to make her change us back!"

"We...we can't," Athos replied. He was barely holding it together. How had this happened? He was completely flabbergasted. How was he supposed to believe that someone had made his brothers become children? He'd never been one to believe in magic despite the proof of its existing. He supposed he was one of the reasons that magic was becoming scarce. One of the chief components of magic was belief. He never believed in something that wasn't tangible and that couldn't be controlled. He simply wasn't able to. Well, now he was staring at the tangible proof of magic's existence and he had no idea what to do.

D'Artagnan pushed Athos away and stood up, swaying at the sudden movement. He glanced down at himself and then all around, eyes skittish, never stopping in one spot. "I don't understand," he cried in a small, timid sounding voice. "I didn't ask for this. I don't want to be a child. Why didn't Aramis stop her or break free! Why did this happen to me?"

D'Artagnan didn't mean to blame Aramis, he didn't think this was his fault by any means. But... just... he couldn't be a child again, he'd already gone through his childhood. He didn't want to be a boy again without his Father and nothing could bring him back from where he was. Not even magic.

Porthos knew his young friend was on the verge of having a full-on panic attack. Athos looked like he was ready to follow d'Artagnan as well. He realized that even though d'Artagnan could remember being an adult, he was trapped in a child's body. His reactions to everything would be emotional because his mind was now childlike. Both he and Athos couldn't afford the time to have their own panicked moments, they needed to be strong for their brothers. They both needed to be the adults here because they were, in fact, the only adults.

"It's ok pup, shhh calm down." Porthos pleaded. He moved to stand in front of him and laid his hands on his shoulders hoping to settle him down. D'Artagnan was shaking violently underneath his hands and Porthos' heart panged a little. Selfishly he was grateful this hadn't happened to him, he didn't know what he would do in this situation.

"Why can't you make her change us back?"

Athos looked to Porthos, eyes wide, barely keeping himself calm. All he managed was a nervous 'Uhhh' and he berated himself for not being a stronger person to handle this stuff. He wasn't suited for looking after children. That's what they were right? Children. This could be permanent. This... this... oh hell, what were they going to do? What was he supposed to say to his friend?

"What Athos is trying to say," supplied Porthos, "Is that, we can't right now because we don't know where she is. First, we see if we can lure Aramis back to us and then let's see about fixing the two of you, yeah? I may know of someone else that could fix this. Meanwhile, if our resident sceptic could get his emotions in check..."

"Another magic user?" Athos asked, finally gaining control of his swirling thoughts.

Porthos nodded, "there are more than enough magic users in the Court of Miracles if you know where to look and who to ask."

* * *

 

**The Retrieval**

* * *

 

It took a while to settle d'Artagnan down from the panic he was in, but Porthos and Athos didn't hold it against him. Not that they had ever dealt with a situation like this before, but they figured anyone in said position would be just as equally panicky. They kept speaking to him and assuring him that they would do everything they could to fix the situation. D'Artagnan remained anxious the entire time, with a desperate need to deal with it now. To have to experience being a child again, regardless of upbringing, was a hard reality to face. Not wanting to wait and be patient was normal in this situation, not that this situation was normal. Hell, even Athos wanted all the answers right now as well and was having a hard time holding back the questions. Athos had to remind himself and Porthos, more than once, that they could panic later once the boys were safe.

"D'Artagnan," Athos asked. He figured this question wouldn't send d'Artagnan into a tailspin like all the others ones had. "Did Aramis seem like he remembered everything like you have so far?"

D'Artagnan looked at Athos and then towards Aramis before shaking his head. "I don't know," he responded. "I wasn't exactly concerned over his well-being after discovering my own malady. He did remember the witch and what she did to him. Athos, what are we going to do? He's only a little boy now, like me, littler even."

"Hey, shhhh," Porthos soothed as d'Artagnan's breathing became strained again. He laid his hand on the boy's shoulder and squeezed it in support. "We said we would find a way to fix this, so no sense in panicking again. We will get Aramis from behind the tree somehow and we will be on our way. Take a couple of deeps breaths and settle your mind. Can you do that for me?"

Porthos waited until d'Artagnan's tense shoulders relaxed before releasing his hold. "Good. Now let's deal with our other small matter; Aramis. I will go get him."

In the entire time, they were calming d'Artagnan, Porthos had been keeping an eye on their other friend. Aramis was still behind the tree, watching them warily, hiding anytime any one of them looked at him. Porthos was burning with a desire to run to the tree, scoop Aramis up in his arms and hug him. He had never experienced having the younger man frightened of him before. Of course he knew that this was only the result of what happened to Aramis earlier, but it still left his ego a bit hurt. Okay maybe more than a tiny bit, but no one had to know that. He was Aramis' best friend and there was no reason for him to be scared.

Sighing, Porthos rolled his shoulders in mock confidence and stalked towards the tree. He would get Aramis and they would be on their way. The boy would race into his arms and hold on for dear life because Porthos would fix everything.

Yes, that is  _exactly_  how it would go.

Unfortunately, as soon as Aramis saw the giant, scary man bumbling towards him, he yelped and ran.

Cursing, Porthos turned to Athos and d'Artagnan who were both glaring at him. "What?" He asked.

"What..." Athos drawled, pointing to the fleeing child. "Let me go get him. Try not to scare off d'Artagnan, please. I do not relish chasing after two children today."

Athos turned and took off after Aramis. The boy had already covered a bit of distance and Athos saw him vanish into the treeline. He hoped Aramis would stop there and not venture further into the forest as he was as unfamiliar with this area. It was easy for someone to lose their way, especially a child who was not paying attention to where he was going. Athos swallowed thickly, his heart pounding in his throat as he ran. What if Aramis refused to allow him near? What would they do then? The last thing he wanted to do was startle the boy, which was funny considering as an adult the man never flinched. Seeing him as he was now, you'd never guess he was an experienced marksman.

"Aramis?" he asked when he entered the dense woods. It was eerie and silent in this place, almost as if the trees were hiding secrets and he wasn't welcome to know them. It was the perfect place for Aramis to hide. Where he once was standing in a sunny lakeside glade, now he was in a darkened, menacing feeling forest. Athos didn't like the atmosphere in here at all and felt an urgent desire to find his young friend and get out. "Aramis, it is me, Athos, can you come out from wherever you are? No one is going to hurt you, my friend."

There was a squeak off to Athos' left, followed by a rustling of a nearby bush. It sounded like a very adorable squeak belonging to a child. Looking a little more closely, Athos could make out a tiny human foot sticking out from beneath the bush.

"Come here, my friend," he said softly.

Athos felt horrible for what was happening to his friends. It wasn't anyone's fault and could have happened to any one of them. Part of him was relieved that he had not been the one in the water confronting the witch. He was just unsure over how to handle this situation. He had never needed to deal with children before and now he was being presented with two of them. Casting his mind back to when he and Thomas were little, it brought to mind all the adults they used to know. His favourite people had always been the ones that left him alone, but Thomas had loved the ones that would indulge him. Deciding he needed to present a more trustworthy image to coax Aramis out, Athos knelt down. He wasn't surprised when in less than a second he was almost barreled over as Aramis ran sobbing into his embrace.

"Oh little one," Athos soothed using a moniker he gave Aramis when the man was deathly sick years ago. His "I am sorry this happened to you. Are you okay?" Athos asked.

"No. I- I is scared," sniffled Aramis. Gone was the sultry, smooth lilt of his best friend, instead replaced by a child's voice. "I d-don't- I can't-"

"Shhh," Athos said. He rubbed his hand up and down Aramis' back hoping to calm him down. "There is nothing to be afraid of, I promise. I am here now and so is Porthos."

"Porfos is so big and scary," Aramis whispered as he sniffled into Athos' neck.

Athos smiled, heart melting as his friend struggled to pronounce the 'th' sound in the name. "Porfo- Porthos won't hurt you, he is a big giant teddy bear and you know it."

Athos felt Aramis nod and sniffle into his neck. Giving his friend a few more moments to settle Athos' tightened his hug, pulling him in closer. As he was holding Aramis, a feeling of responsibility settled over his shoulders. It was a calming feeling, which wasn't a surprise as he usually thrived on responsibility. For the first time, he felt he could do this. He could care for his two friends because they needed his help and they were now his responsibility.

"You are okay, I promise. Are you hurt anywhere?" Athos asked.

"Head hurts," Aramis mumbled into Athos' neck.

Athos extracted Aramis from his arms and looked the boy up and down for any injuries. Other than a nice bruise forming on his temple that matched d'Artagnan's own, Aramis seemed fine.

"Aramis," Athos asked. "How much do you remember?"

Aramis stared at Athos, puzzled, before answering. "There was a magic lady that made me little. She was mad."

Athos sighed. His friend was struggling to come up with an answer that would make Athos happy. He wondered if Aramis even understood the question he'd asked. He decided to ask his question in a simpler way, one that a child would have an easier time answering. "No, no, do you remember being an adult?"

"A big boy like you, Afos?"

"Yes, like me and Porthos. Do you remember being bigger?"

Aramis' little nose scrunched up in thought. "I member lots of big, black birds. Theys ran away when I chased them. My head hurt lots, too. Porfos hugged me. I was a big boy then, yes?"

"Y-yes," Athos stammered. Of all things Aramis remembered, he had hoped it wouldn't be Savoy. Especially the very first thing. This was not going to go over well with Porthos.

Athos wasn't there in the beginning when Aramis returned from Savoy as the sole survivor of a massacre. The training mission failed when almost everyone was murdered in their sleep. The details on how Aramis survived was a well guarded secret that Athos knew very little of. Porthos had cared for Aramis, adding Athos into his scheme to repair the marksman to his former glory. Athos never knew what Aramis was like before Savoy, but liked to think he saw glimpses of his old self every so often. He wondered if Aramis being young again would restore some of his old personality. That alone would make this whole situation worthwhile.

Athos reached out again and folded his arms around the boy in another hug. "Yes, Aramis, you were a big boy then."

"I's still a big boy now?" He asked, puffing out his chest and standing a little straighter.

" _Such_  a big boy," Athos smiled sadly. "What do you say about joining our brothers and finding a place to camp for the night? I believe Porthos is anxious to see you are alright and d'Artagnan could use a friend. He is really struggling with being a child again."

"I be d'Ar- d'Arg… I's can't say his name… I be his friend!" Aramis pouted.

"It's ok Aramis, I am sure just the fact that you know his name will be a balm to their worries," Athos said smiling. "Let us go find our brothers."

Athos disentangled himself from the boy and taking his hand, guided him to the edge of the forest. Athos was pleased to have made such great progress with Aramis. He loathed to explain to Porthos how much Aramis didn't remember and only time would tell if he knew more. Once they exited the trees they paused a moment and looked towards where d'Artagnan and Porthos were. The two were standing close together, foreheads nearly touching, in conversation. Athos hoped that Porthos was encouraging the boy to settle and trust them.

Neither of them noticed Athos and Aramis walking towards them and they looked solemn. His eyes travelled upwards to face the sky. The late afternoon sun was low on the horizon and they were running out of time to find shelter for the night. Athos would have to wait to delve further into Aramis' memories until morning.

Turning back to the boy he smiled wryly. "You are so big now, that I don't think I could possibly carry you back to our camp. You'll just have to walk."

"No, no, I want up. Please, Afos, please!"

 


	5. Chapter 5

**The Moment in Between**

The sun was low on the horizon by the time Athos and Aramis rejoined their other two brothers. Athos pulled Porthos aside to update him while the boys stood near the water's edge throwing rocks into the lake.

Porthos was not pleased hearing that Savoy was the first memory Aramis remembered. They had barely managed to save their friend years ago when his brothers were massacred. Now they had to worry about the effects of such violent memories on a child. Porthos was also not happy with Athos assessment that Aramis might not remember much of anything.

Recognizing the need for Porthos to gather his thoughts, Athos sent him to the village to get their belongings. It had been decided that Athos would ride with d'Artagnan and Aramis with Porthos. Athos wanted a chance to speak wto his young protege and figured it would do wonders for Porthos to have some time alone with his best friend. If they could get Aramis anywhere near Porthos.

While he was gone Athos decided to deal with the boy's clothing. Aramis was still wearing his shirt from earlier, only now it hung straight to the ground. Its edges were thick with dirt from being dragged around the muddy beach of the lake. D'Artagnan was still wearing his soggy leather pants and now oversized shirt. Watching them for a moment brought a rare smile to Athos' face. The two painted an adorable picture, standing side by side, throwing rocks into the lake.

Athos had very little to work with and they had no extra clothing with them. This was supposed to have been a quick mission so he would have to make due with what remained after their swim earlier. He decided to start with d'Artagnan. The boy was a tall, gangly looking nine year old, so Athos only had to roll up his pant legs. He cut a much shorter notch in d'Artagnan's belt so that the pants would remain on his hips instead of falling off. There was little he could do with the shirt and doublet, but the sleeves of both were at least easily rolled up.

"You needed a haircut before this," Athos commented. He ruffled d'Artagnan's hair fondly. "It seems while the spell made you smaller it did nothing to remedy the length of your hair. You urgently need a trim."

"No."

The anger laced in d'Artagnan's refusal of a haircut surprised Athos. "D'Artagnan, everything okay? It's just a haircut."

"Am I okay?" The boy squawked. "Did you really just ask that?  _Am I okay_ … Do I physically  _look_  okay?"

Athos knew that d'Artagnan was still a little upset at being a child so it took all his willpower not to lose patience with him. Instead he shook his head in half amusement and half annoyance. Had he been this belligerent at that age? Either way, he would speak to the boy later.

"Fair enough, that may have been the wrong thing to ask." Athos conceded. "Let me just get those shirt laces tied and you should be well enough until we can get back to Paris and get you some clothing."

He stepped closer to d'Artagnan intending to help him with the ties when his hands were batted away angrily.

D'Artagnan glared at him and backed away to stand by himself. "I can lace up my own shirt, thank you very much."

Once d'Artagnan's attire was taken care of, Athos called for Aramis. The boy dropped his handful of rocks and came flying over, jostling d'Artagnan off to the side in his delight. Oh to be young and not have any of life's burdens, thought Athos. The more he'd been able to observe Aramis the more he realized that the adult Aramis was likely lost to them for now. Sure the boy might be able to remember things if prompted, but nothing was offered up voluntarily. He would leave that up to Porthos to figure out while they travelled to camp.

Aramis' clothing was a little tougher to manage. While he was still wearing his shirt, his pants and boots were long gone. The shirt hung to his feet and would at least provide enough coverage for now. Aramis' doublet was obviously too large, so Athos left that to place in their saddlebags. After much contemplation Athos ended up wrapping the blue sash around Aramis' waist and called it a day. He didn't like that they had no jacket for him, especially with how chilly the evenings were. But, they had plenty of blankets to drape over his shoulders in the event the night got too chilly.

Both boys dealt with, Athos stood back, hands on his hips, and observed them. Aramis was worrying at the knot Athos had made on the sash to prevent him from undoing it. His tiny tongue peeked out from between his lips as he frowned in concentration. It was good to see that his knot tying skills could at least best a four year old. For now, anyways.

"Aramis, leave that sash alone, it is not coming off until we find you some clothing," Athos ordered. The boy stopped fussing at it for only a quick moment to glare at him before going back to it with determination.

"D'Artagnan," Athos called. "Porthos will be back any moment with our horses and you will ride with me."

D'Artagnan huffed and looked away.

Athos tried a different approach. "How is your forehead? It looks a bit bruised, will you let me take a look?"

"I don't need your help!" The boy shouted.

Athos' eyes widened and he was about to scold d'Artagnan for being rude when Porthos returned from the village.

"Looks like someone is tired," he commented. "Come here 'mis, you'll ride with me."

Aramis stopped rubbing his eyes, leaving a dirty streak across his cheek. Instead he curled his hand into his hair and twirled it around his fingers. "I is not sleepy," he frowned.

Athos smiled at Aramis. The boys cheeks were rosy and eyes rimmed red in exhaustion. It would make sense he would be tired after the trying day they had. Athos bent down and scooped Aramis up in his arms much to the boy's surprise. "Up you come little one, close those eyes. You can rest while we travel to camp."

"No, no…" Aramis protested. "No sleep! My eyes don't feel sugary."

"What?" Athos asked, puzzled.

"Sugary. They don't feel sugary." Aramis repeated, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"Oh, you mean sleepy, like the sandman hasn't visited yet tonight. Well your eyes are all red, so if you close them I am sure that they will get all sugary."

"No. I is not sleeping."

Athos smiled and shushed him. "It's late but not late enough that we couldn't travel an hour or so away from the village and make camp. I don't know about you Porthos, but the air around here still feels wrong. I don't want to be here any longer than needed."

As if confirming that the area wasn't truly safe, a chilling wind whipped and whirled around them. Aramis whimpered, hiding his face in Athos' neck and d'Artagnan shuffled a little closer to the group. Porthos yelped as d'Artagnan's horse neighed and pawed at the ground.

"Yeah… let's move. D'Artagnan you're with Athos, I've tethered your horse to Roger so we don't lose her. Same with Aramis' to mine. I'll take him out of your hands in a second Athos, let me just- What's your problem?"

D'Artagnan huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, scowling. He refused to look at any of them. Porthos raised his eyebrows at Athos.

Athos shook his head. "He's being difficult," he offered as an explanation.

"I can ride my own horse, I am not a child," d'Artagnan complained.

Porthos frowned, "You may not feel as though you are a child but you are certainly acting like one. In light of today's events, I would personally feel safer keeping you two close tonight. I don't care if you don't like it, it is what is happening. You will ride with Athos and neither of us want to hear one more word against this. Understood?"

D'Artagnan's cheeks coloured red in embarrassment. To be chastised in this manner from his brother was horrifying.

"I am waiting…" Porthos said.

If it were possible d'Artagnan's ears became even more red than his cheeks. He glanced down and hoped the ground would swallow him whole. "Yes sir," he responded sheepishly.

Porthos walked up to d'Artagnan, leaving the horses to wander about for a few moments. He took d'Artagnan's chin and gently forced the boy to look him in the eye. "I realize this is frightening, it is for us all, but you have to give Athos some slack, none of us have dealt with this before.'

"I know," d'Artagnan said quietly. "I'll try."

"That is all any of us are asking," Porthos said with a huge grin.

"Well, I don't think this one will give us any issues," Athos interrupting the moment. He turned revealing a very much sound asleep Aramis in his arms.

Athos nodded and held out Aramis for Porthos to take so he could get up on his horse. Porthos directed the boy to Athos so he could sit in front of him. He was sure that d'Artagnan could safely ride a horse all on his own, but he wanted to keep the boy's safe and close by. They didn't yet know for sure if this was all that the witch's spell was going to cause. Better have them nearby just in case.

Once d'Artagnan was seated in front of Athos, Porthos led his own horse to a nearby rock. Using it as a foothold he climbed up trying not to jostle Aramis.

They set off at a normal pace so as not to wake up Aramis, and to give Athos some time to speak with d'Artagnan


	6. Chapter 6

**The Confession**

* * *

"What's going on, brother?" Athos asked when they'd gotten on their way to camp. "I thought we'd sorted this out. We will get to the Court like Porthos said and see how quickly this spell can be reversed."

D'Artagnan stiffened in the saddle, cursing himself for letting his guard down so easily. Of course, Athos would have felt him tensing up and would now be even more concerned.  _Darn! There was no getting out of an answer now._

"I know," he finally whispered.

"Then what's going on my friend?"

D'Artagnan opened his mouth to speak and shut it almost immediately. How could he explain this to Athos? To an adult, this would seem so trivial, but he wasn't an adult anymore. Thoughts and emotions whirled around in his mind and his brain could no longer find a way to express itself.

"I-I don't know how to explain," he mumbled finally.

"Try," Athos responded. He allowed Roger to lag off behind Aramis and Porthos so that they could have some privacy.

D'Artagnan was grateful that Athos was being so understanding. He had no clue how the man was being so calm about the situation. D'Artagnan felt like the world was crumbling around him, burying him with its crushing weight. "It's just that… that I…" he had to take a moment to swallow down the emotions threatening to overcome him. "Promise me you won't leave me?"

To say Athos was shocked would be an understatement. How could his friend think he would ever abandon him? Sure, when they'd first come across the young man there were doubts to his loyalty, but since then he'd become an integral part of his life. There lives. Athos trusted d'Artagnan faster than he had Aramis and Porthos and he did not understand why. There were things he'd confessed to d'Artagnan that even Aramis and Porthos didn't yet know. This man was so much more than a friend, he was a brother.

"Why would you ever think that?" Athos finally asked. "You are my brother. Just because something happened to you doesn't mean I would abandon you to your fate."

D'Artagnan sobbed, part in relief and partially because Athos didn't understand. On one hand, his brother wouldn't give up on him so easily, but on the other… what if… what if this was irreversible? "What if I am stuck this way?" He ended up blurting out. "What if I am stuck a child forever, doomed to grow up all over again, will you keep me then?"

Athos sighed. He knew that he had to answer this with as much honesty as he could. He was warring with his own self over what he  _wanted_  to do and what he  _should_  do. Athos wished that Porthos was part of this conversation because his friend would know what to do. Athos knew, deep down, that if d'Artagnan and Aramis were permanently children they would need to be cared for. He also knew that he wouldn't allow anyone else to do that, so logically it would be him and Porthos. At the same time, this was all Athos wanted to be. Noble past or not, Athos wanted to be a soldier and not a father. He really wished that he could consult Porthos, though at the same time he already knew what his friend would choose. Porthos would leave the Musketeers. Aramis was Porthos' best friend and there was no way they would be separated, by time or age.

"Athos?" D'Artagnan asked.

There was a worry to his young friends voice, likely because he had taken too long to answer. Steeling his resolve, Athos, deep down knew his answer, even if he hated it. If he had to leave he would and it looked likely that he would.

"D'Artagnan, you are so much a part of my life now that I can't imagine one without you in it," Athos responded. "No, I will not abandon you even if you and Aramis remain as you are."

D'Artagnan sniffled. His heart eased a little and he was surprised at the tears tracking down his cheeks. Knowing that he wasn't going to be tossed aside and left to navigate life alone was a huge relief.

Athos responded by wrapping his arm around the boy's torso in support. "We will get this sorted out and deal with the consequences that follow, but know this, Porthos and I are here for you."

"Thank you, Athos," d'Artagnan replied softly. "Thank you…"

"You're welcome, my friend."

The two rode in silence for a while, keeping a fair distance from Porthos so that d'Artagnan could calm. It looked like Aramis still remained asleep in Porthos' arms, which Athos was both grateful for and disappointed at. It didn't seem as though his friend remembered much about being an adult. Athos was surprised when Aramis had brought up Savoy. Of all things he would have wished his friend would not remember Savoy was at the top of that list. So far it seemed like d'Artagnan remembered everything, though they didn't really have any confirmation of it.

"D'Artagnan," Athos asked. "What do you remember?"

"Of being an adult? I-I remember almost everything, though what I don't remember is impossible to say."

* * *

 

**The Gathering of Information**

* * *

Their travels to camp and subsequent stay overnight ended up being uneventful. Aramis slept in Porthos' arms the entire trip while Athos and d'Artagnan conversed. Whatever was discussed seemed to settle d'Artagnan enough so that by the time they reached the resting point, the boy seemed at ease.

Athos and Porthos set camp up and were able to assemble something warm to eat before they settled in for the night. Athos and d'Artagnan chose one side of the fire with Porthos on the other side with Aramis. It did not take long before the tensions of the day left Athos and d'Artagnan, dropping them off to dreamland. Porthos was jealous that both of them were able to sleep, exhausted by the days' events. He was not used to caring for children and spent most of the night listening to make sure Aramis was breathing. The biggest worry plaguing him was that something else would happen as a result of the spell. What if it wasn't done casting it's wickedness over them? Being a former resident of the court of miracles, Porthos had seen magic, he had even experienced it. He knew the twists and turns magic could cause. More than once in his life, he questioned whether he would have been more educated in magic had his mother lived. As it was there was nothing he could do right now. Magic was fickle, as though it had a mind of its own. Just because the witch was seemingly gone, did not mean the magic behind it was done.

He hoped that his friend, Marinette, could help them fix this because if she couldn't he didn't know what they were going to do. Marinette was an old, dear friend of his mother's and by default his. While many had a hand in Porthos' upbringing, Marinette was his favourite and the most constant person in his life. He had always meant to introduce her to his brothers, especially Aramis.

The garrison was no place for someone as young as Aramis was now. D'Artagnan could at least be hired to muck out the stables amongst other things, but not Aramis. If this spell turned out to be irreversible Porthos knew he would have to leave the Musketeers. He owed it to his best friend to make sure that he grew up in a better environment. Porthos had no doubt that Athos would choose the same as him, but his friend thrived being a Musketeer. He could not allow Athos to give this up, he would never forgive himself. No, Porthos would take Aramis to the court and raise him there alone. He knew the court was a poor substitute but he knew people there. The support system was strong in the court; they always took care of their own.

The next morning brought an ominous gray sky that promised rain. The temperature had dropped through the night and there was a chilling wind. A shared look between him and Athos had Porthos bundling Aramis in an extra blanket.

"I's cold," Aramis whined. He tucked his face further into Porthos' doublet as if that would protect him from the weather.

"It's okay Aramis," d'Artagnan shouted over the screaming winds. "We will soon be at the garrison where Treville has a nice warm fire roaring."

That conversation warmed Porthos' heart. To hear d'Artagnan be so protective over his brother was a balm to his soul and gave him hope in a bleak situation. It especially felt good to hear after d'Artagnan's raw panic the day before. Glancing sideways at Athos, Porthos saw relief mirrored in his eyes.

"Speaking of Treville, Athos," Porthos called above the wind. "Him or Marinette first?"

Athos paused to contemplate the question before answering with a certainty. "Your friend from the court first. When we report to Treville I want to make sure we have as much information as possible."

"What do you think Treville will say?"

Athos smiled a grim sort of smile, one that did not reach his eyes. "That is one conversation I am not looking forward to having."

They ended up finding Marinette with little difficulty and no resistance from the habitants of the court. She was an old woman with dark, straggly hair, but a warm face and kind eyes. She stood a foot shorter than Porthos, maybe even more based on how far he stooped to hug her. Porthos was always shocked every time he saw her because for as tiny as she was, he never remembered her thus. He would always remember Marinette as a fierce woman; someone not to be messed with. To young Porthos, she was a tall, proud woman and that view never changed even as he became a tall man.

"Oh my Porthos, you never visit me anymore," Marinette commented. She wasted no time pulling him into a tight embrace. "Look at you, a musketeer! Your mother would be very proud."

It was embarrassing to Porthos to hear her praise. He felt his cheeks warm and he ducked his head smiling. It was so reminiscent of Aramis' bashful smiles that Porthos froze mid-grin. The thought of never seeing his friend as an adult again weighing on his shoulders once more.

"What's troubling you, my dear one?" Marinette asked. It had not escaped her notice that her musketeer was hurting.

The worry crept back into Porthos' eyes and he turned to look nervously at Aramis and d'Artagnan. "Marinette, this is Athos, Aramis and d'Artagnan. Yesterday we were tasked with a mission to a nearby town to provide guard for a baptism."

"Oh heavens! You brought the children with you?" Marinette interrupted.

She walked over to Aramis and knelt down to his level. Brushing the curls out of his face, she smiled at him, earning a timid one in response. "He's adorable. Is he yours?" She asked Athos.

Athos' eyes widened. "No... They- I mean we- They aren't actual children Madame, as of yesterday morning they were our comrades. Our best friends. Full grown adults."

Marinette leaned into Aramis as if being closer would reveal a secret. It only took a moment of studying before she narrowed her eyes and frowned. She shifted her gaze to d'Artagnan, pulling his gaze to her, exploring his eyes for something. Her scrutiny made d'Artagnan so nervous he broke eye contact, shuffling from one foot to the other. It made both Athos and Porthos uneasy to see their friends unsettled.

Finally, she stood up and addressed Athos and Porthos. "They are inundated with magic. I can feel it flowing off of them and it's strong magic. What happened?"

Porthos and Athos shared another glance before Porthos took over explaining. "We did not expect to see a witch at the baptism…"

By the end of the story, Marinette looked properly frightened. She ushered the boys into her small home and bade the men to wait outside. They were in there for so long that Porthos had just decided he was going in when Aramis, d'Artagnan and Marinette came out of the hut. Aramis had tear tracks running down his cheeks and was hiccuping as he breathed. D'Artagnan looked worse for the wear and was scowling in anger. They were hand in hand, each gripping the other hard enough to make their knuckles white. When Aramis saw Porthos he let go of d'Artagnan's hand and flew across the alleyway into his arms. D'Artagnan equally as distressed, walked quickly to Athos and huddled behind the man.

"What did you do to them?" Porthos asked angrily. He felt Aramis shuddering in his arms and pulled the boy in for warmth and comfort. He felt bad that he shouted at Marinette, but the desire for answers was overwhelming. He knew his old friend would understand.

"This is worse than I thought it was and yet better than it should have been," Marinette said. She spoke with confidence not giving away how she felt about the situation. It was, however, the lines at her eyes and lips that belied the news was not going to be positive. "Which would you prefer first, the good or bad?"

"Just tell us what you discovered and we can determine how good or bad this is going to be," Athos answered.

"Well, the good news is that they are healthy. The bad news... that spell was meant to be fatal; they should have grown younger instead of older until they died. This whole spell is complicated and supposed to kill the person it was being cast on." She said gravely. "If it wasn't for d'Artagnan distracting that witch from her spell, Aramis would be dead."

The gravity of the situation slammed into Porthos at her words. He could have lost his best friend yesterday. He still might lose him and d'Artagnan if they couldn't reverse this.

"Another piece of good news is that magic leaves a signature and I know the woman that cast this spell. She is very powerful."

"How will that help us?" D'Artagnan asked. "She vanished when I pulled her hand from Aramis' throat."

"You transferred the focus of her powers into two people and overloaded her. The magic tried to compensate and took the extra power it needed from her life force." Marinette responded. She smiled sadly at d'Artagnan. "She is likely dead, the power she used to make you both young would drain her of everything she had. That kind of magic, it's... old. Most do not dabble in those kinds of spells anymore. It is the kind of magic that requires more than anyone should ever give. It is what we call 'dark magic'."

"Is there a way to change them back?" Athos asked. There was an edge of panic to his voice.

Porthos knew if Athos was unable to hold back his emotions that they were in serious trouble. No matter though, if Marinette couldn't fix this, Treville would find a way.

"There is more bad news. If she was still alive we could have her reverse this immediately."

"So because she is dead there is no way to change them back?" Porthos growled. He held onto Aramis a little tighter as if that alone would protect him from what had happened.

Marinette sighed and looked directly at Porthos. This was the part that was difficult to explain to them. To anyone that didn't understand magic to the degree that she and her coven did, would find this confusing. These men were distraught over their situation and she felt like she was letting them down. "The answer is not as easy as a yes or no would be," she finally said.

"You did not strictly say no which gives me hope that we can find a way to get our friends back," Athos said.

Marinette smiled. "This is somewhat beyond my expertise but I do believe we can reverse this."

"Oh thank goodness." Athos said at the same time Porthos asked, "What do we need to do to get this started?"

"Hold on now," Marinette continued. "It is not that easy. This spell was powerful and cannot be recreated by just anyone at any given time. With the original spellcaster dead we need raw, natural power. The kind of power only available twice a year, a seasonal equinox. The magic would be its strongest during the original equinox that the spell was cast during..."

"It was just autumn, that means…" Athos trailed off.

"A year!" Porthos exclaimed. "That is…"

"Absolutely absurd!" Athos finished for him. "You expect us to keep two young children in the musketeer garrison for a whole year?"

Marinette ignored their outrage, shrugging apologetically. There wasn't anything she could do about it. "That doesn't mean we can't try in the Spring though. There is also the Summer and Winter Solstices. While the magic is weaker, those could provide us with enough power as well. I will see if I can gather more information and some support from my sisters."

"I supposed there is nothing left to do but go to see Treville and report on what has happened," Athos said.

The dull, emotional way that his friend had spoken sent shivers down Porthos' spine. If Athos was unable to hold back his emotions about the situation, how was he supposed to keep it together?

* * *

 


	7. Chapter 7

**The Captain's Office Redux**

It took nearly an hour for Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan to tell the story of what happened the last few days. The whole thing sounded hard to believe and if it wasn't for the evidence right in front of him, Treville would think they had lost their minds. It was strange for him to hear d'Artagnan speak in such a small, childlike voice. Aramis was the only one who remained quiet, listening with wide, curious eyes as his brothers spoke. During the tale Treville couldn't help but closely watch his marksman, looking for any signs that he understood what was going on. There were a few times where d'Artagnan would look to Aramis for input, but seldom were the responses more than a nod or a shake of the head. Treville could swear that there was a moment where Aramis leaned towards Porthos as if to ask a question, his eyes clearing of their childlike innocence, only to fall back and be lost in thought once more.

When the story had finally been completed Treville leaned forward in his chair, pondering the story. Finally he decided that he would ask the most obvious question first. "Aramis, do you know who I am?" He said just a little sharper and louder than he'd meant.

Aramis startled in Porthos' lap, burying himself a little more into the man's chest. The others glared at him for scaring the boy. There was a palpable tension surrounding the air in the office and he supposed he should have known that Athos and Porthos would be protective of their friend. They were protective when he was an adult and it would not be any different while he was a vulnerable child. In fact it was probably multiplied tenfold now.

"Sorry," Treville mumbled. "Aramis, son, do you know who I am?"

The boy nodded his head. "You is our leader, Trebille."

Treville smiled brightly, even if it did not quite reach his eyes. It was not the exact answer he was looking for, even if it did give him a glimmer of hope that the man he knew was still in the child somewhere. What he really wanted to know was not his name, but who and what he represented to these men. He was looking for a detailed answer. "Does he remember anything at all?" He asked Athos.

Athos cleared his throat nervously before standing up to address his captain. It forced d'Artagnan to shuffle closer to Aramis and Porthos to give Athos some standing space. Upon seeing his brother in reaching distance Aramis grabbed d'Artagnan's sleeve and pulled him closer to the pair. They all painted a pretty sweet portrait snuggled in together like that.

"I have not shared my thoughts yet but I believe," He began. "That just like d'Artagnan, Aramis retains all memory of being an adult. Just… he is a small child and they do not tend to think quite as articulately as an adult that has reached his or her majority. My personal opinion is that he simply lacks the ability to remember everything all at once. He remembers things if prompted but does not have the capacity to offer anything up on his own. He is by all intents a four year old child and everything to him is being experienced like he is four."

"And you, d'Artagnan, do you believe that Athos is correct in his assumption of yours and Aramis' situation?"

D'Artagnan nodded and replied. "Yes, Sir."

Athos smiled and ruffled d'Artagnan's hair much to his chagrin. "Just like d'Artagnan is now nine and he remembers everything his adult self has lived but is experiencing the emotions and difficulties of a nine year old."

"I am not, I have been perfectly normal." D'Artagnan stated in a huff.

Athos raised his eyebrow and smirked. "So far you have complained about the horses. Aramis has been breathing too loud and humming too much. You don't think it is fair that you stick close to Porthos or I in the city… shall I continue?"

"No," d'Artagnan grumbled, crossing his arms across his chest and turning away from Athos slightly. "Not fair, Aramis has been just as bad. I swear he is humming just to annoy me. Why am I always the one getting getting in trouble?"

"He's four," Athos replied.

D'Artagnan stuck out his tongue at Athos in response. "That is a poor excuse and you know it. I am only nine!"

"Later you two, this is not the time nor place to discuss this," Porthos chastised the pair.

Treville smiled again and leant back in his chair, absorbing the news. "You said your friend was confident this was temporary; explain that to me again please." Treville asked Porthos after a moment's contemplation.

"Marinette suggested it could be anywhere from six months to longer. She was confident that it would not be any longer than a year, though." Porthos responded. "It has something to do with the seasonal equinoxes and magic being more powerful at that time of year."

Terville's mouth formed a grim line, this wasn't good news. How was he supposed to be without two of his best men for that long? How would he explain the presence of two children in the garrison? Let alone explain that the said children were actually their former comrades. How were they supposed to provide and care for two children in a place where soldiers trained with deadly weaponry? Oh lord, what were they going to tell the King?

"So let me get this straight," he mumbled, letting his head fall into his hands. "We have our newest commissioned musketeer stuck as a child for at the very least, six months, who has no business being around swords and guns. Then we have a well-seasoned marksman with little recollection of his former self. The same who should not even be alone left unattended in a garrison full of the King's personal guards!"

"We do not have to tell the King…" d'Artagnan supplied unhelpfully.

"You want to lie to the King, have you gone mad? Nothing good ever comes from hiding this kind of thing from Louis. What if Richelieu found out? He would have both of you removed from the garrison and we would never see you again!" Treville shouted.

"I was just trying to be helpful, Captain!" D'Artagnan shouted back. "It is not like I asked for this to happen to us. It is not like I am happy to remain a child for six months or longer either!"

"Enough, both of you," Athos said. "Tensions are running a little high here. I think that right now d'Artagnan has the right idea. The King should not be told of what is going on here, not now and maybe not ever. You are also right Captain, Richelieu cannot ever find out about this. We can come up with some believable story that even the Cardinal is satisfied with."

Treville continued to glare at d'Artagnan for a moment before allowing his expression to soften with regret. "Forgive me," he apologized. "These are not normal circumstances and I have not yet wrapped my mind around it."

"What are we going to do with them in the meantime Captain?" Porthos interrupted. "Can they stay at the garrison?"

Treville rocked back in his chair, worry lines creasing his face. That was his biggest question right now, could they stay here? Part of him was screaming at him, telling him it was going to be a bad idea to keep two young children in the garrison. A soldier's barracks was no place for someone as young as Aramis was right now. D'Artagnan could possibly be put to work, but even so, he was still younger than Treville preferred for work duty. There were so many things that could go wrong by keeping them here. Deadly weapons, violence, a meddling King and his equally as meddling Cardinal.

The other part of Treville knew he couldn't abandon his men and it wasn't their fault they were in such a vulnerable position. Treville's heart twinged at the thought of anyone taking them away from him. He had practically raised Aramis here, these boys were like his own children. What had happened to both Aramis and d'Artagnan was unnatural and was bound to leave its mark in ways that they would come to discover in the months ahead. He also realized that no matter what had happened, he would protect these boys with everything he had. No harm would come to them from anyone and that included his own regiment. Either way, he needed to think about this, let all of this news settle. But for now, he supposed, they would need to stay in the garrison.

It was late in the day, past dinner time and the sun was already beginning to settle for the night. His heart melted as d'Artagnan yawned into his hands and Aramis rubbed his eyes with his fists. Taking a closer look Treville noticed the boys looked exhausted, their eyes were rimmed red and their cheeks flushed crimson.

He cleared his throat. "It's late and these boys need to eat something and then get to bed. Let's discuss this issue tomorrow."

Treville let his head fall to his desk with a groan as his men left the room. This was shaping up to be a very entertaining and painful few months. With summer rapidly turning into fall, having two boys in the garrison was going to be a trial. He wondered what his musketeers would think. Would they embrace the boys and treat them as one of their own? Or would they condemn the children as abnormalities?

Tomorrow. He would think on this tomorrow. Tonight he would drink.

* * *

 

**The Promise**

* * *

 

Despite the many protests that neither of them was tired, it was not long before the two boys were tucked into bed, eyes blinking heavily from exhaustion. Since Aramis had resided in the garrison longer than the other three, his room was chosen as their main accommodations. It was easily the largest of the rooms and was situated just above Serge's kitchen and right next door to captain Treville's office. It also would give both Athos and Porthos some peace of mind knowing that anyone invading the garrison would have to go through Treville first. Not that they were expecting any trouble, but having children around, especially Aramis and d'Artagnan who attracted trouble, did strange things to Athos' anxiety.

While Athos fed them a light meal and oversaw a quick face and hand cleaning, Porthos went to retrieve an extra cot or two. There was no way that Porthos was going to be anywhere else for the next while and Athos had to agree. He was uneasy enough with the situation and he did not yet trust himself to be far from his friends.

D'Artagnan was feeling marginally better after telling Treville their story. Logically he knew they already had their answer from Porthos' friend Marinette, but it felt good telling someone with more authority. Captain Treville was like a father to his musketeers and especially to d'Artagnan who'd lost his own father last year.

Once the extra cots were brought in and set up, Porthos smiled at Aramis and literally tossed him into the bed closest to the wall. He turned to d'Art and held out his hand for d'Artagnan so he could do the same. "Into bed with you lot," he said.

D'Artagnan frowned, he didn't want to be tossed into the bed like a child and yet he could feel excited anticipation running through his veins at the prospect of such play. He was still struggling to come to terms with the fact that he was going to have to be this age for at least six months. He did not have any faith that the winter solstice would offer enough magic to fix this and knew they would have to wait until Spring. He was jealous of Aramis and his carefree ability to just let it be and have fun, though he also wondered if Aramis was just simply not able to control himself. In the end, d'Artagnan's ego and pride won and he refused Porthos' helping hand.

"Do I have to share a bed?" D'Artagnan asked.

"Until we sort out permanent sleeping arrangements this is going to have to do," Athos responded.

D'Artagnan nodded and crawled in beside Aramis, only to be assaulted by a four-year-old snuggling up next to him. "Aramis you need to give me a little bit of breathing space."

"My bed!" Aramis announced proudly. He pushed d'Artagnan's arm to the side with the intention of knocking him out of the bed. "You go and I stay."

"Hey, that's not very nice, Aramis!" Athos admonished, glaring at Porthos a second later as the larger man laughed.

"What?" Porthos asked. "Mis has a point if the pup wants to be all posh and not share then he can haul his arse out and sleep elsewhere."

"Porthos, language! Aramis you will be kind to your brother and d'Artagnan you will share this bed with him for at least tonight. We will figure the rest out tomorrow."

"See, Athos," Porthos said as he finished setting up the spare cots. "You are a natural at this."

"You two close those eyes of yours and rest," Porthos said as he covered them up with a blanket. "Athos and I will be back up in a little bit."

Once the two had left the room, d'Artagnan rolled onto his side facing Aramis and lightly tugged the wild, curly hair. "Aramis, are you awake still?"

"Yes."

"Are you okay?"

"No, I'm scared."

"Oh Aramis, is this just as hard for you as it is for me? Can we make a promise?" D'Artagnan asked. He pulled Aramis a little closer into his arms when no answer was forthcoming except a suspicious little sniffle. "Let's look after each other. We are in this together, I promise. I've always wanted a little brother, did you know that?"

Aramis rolled over and looked straight at d'Artagnan. "I be the little brother now?"

"Yeah, you get to be my little brother for a while. Will that be okay?"

Aramis nodded and closed his eyes with a sigh. A tension that d'Artagnan hadn't really been aware of fled his own shoulders and he also closed his eyes and fell asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this is the last chapter I have for now... Eventually I will finish this.

**The Understanding of Reality**

When they'd arrived earlier this evening the place was filled with dining musketeers and those returning from their daily patrols. The Musketeer regiment wasn't large by any means, especially compared to the Red Guards. Usually ranging anywhere from 30 or so fully commissioned soldiers and another 10 recruits, the regiment was at its lowest membership in recent years. The regiment would dwindle in the coming months as those with families left to tend to them over the winter months. Now, however, it was quiet. There were only a few remaining men fiddling about the garrison, heading out for night watch or securing the area before they too went to sleep.

"What now?" Athos asked Porthos as they walked down the steps into the courtyard of the garrison. The boys were safely tucked away in bed, hopefully dreaming of pleasant things. Tomorrow they would have to sort out sleeping arrangements and clothing. Provided Treville let them stay. Porthos seemed sure that they boys would be allowed to remain in the garrison but the realist in Athos knew that it wasn't advised. There were just far too many dangers. Maybe Constance could help.

"Right now," responded Porthos, "I need to sit down and drink copious amounts of ale." The larger man stomped down the last couple of steps and sat down with a thud at the table. There was a large jug and several cups waiting for him as though Serge had predicted his need for ale.

"Drinking copiously is my thing," Athos responded with a small smile.

Porthos only snorted in response and poured himself a generous mug of alcohol. Athos, not enjoying the taste of the ale, chose to not drink. He had a sinking feeling that drinking wine was not going to be a regular occurrence for a while. If they meant to keep Aramis and d'Artagnan at hand while they were children, they needed to be as alert as possible. As if echoing his thoughts, Porthos finished off the mug and set it down on the table before pushing the whole pitcher of ale away from him.

"This situation feels insurmountable. I miss Aramis," Porthos whined. "What if they don't switch back?"

Athos took in his friend's slumped shoulders and sad eyes. He missed Aramis too and d'Artagnan. The gascon had wormed his way into his ice-cold heart, teaching him how to live again. He'd given Athos a reason to move forward in life by becoming his apprentice. He knew Porthos was looking to him to fix everything, but for once Athos had no clue how to do that.

"Do you think the Captain will kick the boys out of the garrison?" Athos asked quietly. "Maybe Constance could take care of them?"

Porthos grunted. "I made a promise to not abandon them… you did too."

"It is sad to think that after all this time we must be parted for this reason. I always imagined we would all four of us, die in honour, never leaving each other behind."

Porthos' eyes widened at Athos' comment. "What are you talking about, no one is leaving. Wait, does this mean you are staying? You would abandon me and the boys if Treville sends them away?"

"I cannot leave, Porthos. I need to stay and earn a wage so that I can support you three."

"You have more than enough money from your fancy comte days to cover that. You are always saying money is of no concern." Porthos snapped.

Athos continued as if he hadn't heard. "And then there is The King, what would he think if the four of us disappeared?"

At that Porthos threw his hands up in the air. "Who the bloody hell cares what the King thinks!"

"And Anne… me coming with you leaves us vulnerable. She has this idea that ruining my life is-"

"Athos, stop right this minute. Where is all this coming from?" Porthos interrupted. "None of that matters as long as we stick together. Aramis and d'Artagnan need to be our first priority. What is going on in that thick head of yours?"

"I don't… I can't…"

Athos brought his shaking hands to the scarf around his neck and yanked at it, finding the air suddenly hard to breathe.

"I could not possibly…" He gasped.  _Damn scarf would not come loose for the love of Go-_

The scarf was removed suddenly by warm hands not his own. In his panic, Athos had not even sensed Porthos get up from the table and rush to his side. Porthos ground his thumbs into the back of his neck, pressing upwards and forcing Athos' head down as he kneaded the flesh. "Calm down, my friend. There is no need to panic right now."

"I do not know what to do, I have never needed to care for children before. Give me brigands or ex-wives, those I can handle, but children? Our friends are counting on us to fix everything for them. What if we fail? What if I fail them...?"

"Oh Athos," Porthos pressed into Athos' shoulders one more time before letting him go to sit next to him on the bench. "We will figure this out together, but we can't do that if we don't stick together. Marinette is working to fix this, but in the meantime, it is our responsibility to keep those two fools we call our friends alive. Treville will allow them to stay here, of that I do not doubt."

"Okay. I envy you and your ability to know exactly where you stand in this situation."

"Trust me, my friend," Porthos said softly. "Inside I am reeling probably worse than you but these are our friends. They deserve our loyalty and if that means raising them for the second time then so be it."

Athos blew out a puff of air that fluttered his bangs. Porthos was right of course, he was putting too much emphasis on everything that could go wrong before it was even happening. They had overcome the main hurdle in getting the information they needed to reverse this spell. The rest would either fall into place or it wouldn't. They needed to take it one day at a time.

"Now all we have to do is survive the next six months."

Athos groaned. "Maybe I will take a mug of that disgusting ale."

* * *

 

**The New Day Dawns**

* * *

 

The next morning dawned cool and crisp. A layer of frost had settled on every surface and shimmered in the morning sunrise. It looked like Winter was going to show her face early this year and test everyone's mettle. Treville made a mental note to have one of his cadets do an inventory of winter clothing and provisions so that the men that would winter here would be warm at the very least.

Treville stood staring out at the empty yard for a little longer, listening to the hustle and bustle of Paris begin outside the garrison's walls. Finally, he made his way back to his office to light a fire in the hearth and chase away the chill. It was far too early for anyone else to be awake yet and Serge wouldn't yet be up and about lighting the kitchen hearths.

The monotonous task allowed his mind to ponder over the previous day's surprises. Yesterday Athos and Porthos had presented to him two children, formerly his adult musketeers Aramis and d'Artagnan. To say he was shocked would be an understatement. There was simply no words for what had happened and he was having a hard time being empathetic to the situation.

He'd decided just before sleep swept him away, that the boys would have to remain here. There was no one else he could call on and honestly none that he would want to lay this burden on. He'd briefly considered Constance but her fool of a husband would end up screwing up an already delicate situation. Young d'Artagnan had been correct earlier, The King and Richelieu could not ever find out about this or what happened in the village. The two would incite panic among the citizens of Paris and cause an unnecessary witch hunt. That was only the beginning of what those two would do to ensure that they were safe from "magic." Treville didn't even want to consider what would happen to both d'Artagnan and Aramis if the Cardinal got his hands on them. One thing Treville knew for certain was that he would never lay eyes on the boys ever again.

The fire sparked to life and Treville sat back on his haunches enjoying the warmth and glow it emitted. The real problem of this was his regiment and their reactions. Treville had no doubt that the men would embrace having the boys around and would likely not even be bothered by the fact that Aramis and d'Artagnan were underfoot. It was the lying to their King that would be the real issue. Treville also had a solution for how they would ensure that the Cardinal and the King never find out about what happened.  _"Aramis and d'Artagnan" had uncovered a plot to rid France of the nobles and have gone on a long-term undercover operation._  Treville would tell Louis that they would be gone for six months or longer. He had not yet thought of a way to explain the presence of children in the garrison, though. There would be time for that later he supposed.

He stood up to go to his desk to start the day's paperwork when suddenly a scream cut through the morning. Dropping his quill and papers on his desk he ran for the balcony.

"Captain," Serge shouted as he stomped out of his kitchens. "Did you find that little moppet, Aramis? He was helping his wee hands to the cookies I baked for a later treat for the men."

"What the devil is happening out here?" Athos growled as he came out of Aramis' room rubbing his eyes. He was followed by d'Artagnan equally as bleary-eyed.

"Found him!" Porthos called. He hauled a frightened Aramis out from behind the horse troughs by the scruff of his neck.

"Go and sit him at the table in the kitchens," Serge ordered Porthos. "Moppet is going to help me make a fresh batch."

"How did you know that was Aramis?" Treville asked.

"I'd know them eyes anywhere, Captain. You're expected in the kitchens shortly to explain just why my favourite musketeer is now a child."

Treville nodded and watched Serge go back to the kitchen before turning to Athos and d'Artagnan. "I suppose I had better get to explaining or I am not likely to get any breakfast."

"You handle him Captain, d'Artagnan and I will explain to the other men. It might sound more believable and be accepted readily once they see the evidence."


End file.
